


Just Dudes Being Bros

by Lucastiel



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: (not really though), Angst, Bisexual John, Coming Out, Confessions, Fluff, Gay Sherlock, I love my boys, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Random OC, Slow Burn, a bit after tfp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-03 03:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucastiel/pseuds/Lucastiel
Summary: Sherlock Holmes comes out to his long-time friend/flatmate John Watson, who's peRFEcTLy fine with it; until he realizes he's not.(prompt by headline "straight guy worries he's being homophobic to gay roommate, realizes he's fallen in love with him")





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello this is my first ao3 fic (would've been posted sooner if it wasn't for that spam-invitation-disable thingie but it's all good now)  
> If you couldn't tell from the summary, this is based off of the headline "straight guy worries he's being homophobic to gay roommate, realizes he's fallen in love with him". I thought it'd work great for these two lmao  
> This shouldn't end up being long but who knows

"John," Sherlock called from the kitchen- er, what doubled as a kitchen; right now it was a makeshift lab. John promptly set down his magazine.

"I better not have to do something horrible.." He mumbled to himself. He got to the door and slid it open. "What could you possibly need," John said with a quick shake of his head. Sherlock looked up from his microscope. His eyes seemed to brighten despite the dim room. John puckered his lips in question. Sherlock smiled an actual, genuine smile.

"Yes yes," he said with pace, "I've decided I should probably tell you something. It's important." He walked closer to John. John straightened his back. What could it possibly be? He's lived with Sherlock for quite a bit now, he knew a considerable amount about Sherlock, but let's be real, it's Sherlock; really, who knows. John pursed his lips.

"Aaalright," he began, "well spill it," he ended with a small smile and chuckle. Sherlock took a step closer to the smaller man and they locked gaze.

"John, I know, hope, you won't think of me any different; I mean I told you on the day we first met, but in a way you normal people probably wouldn't get let's be honest,"

"Sherlock I will leave this room if you keep that up-"

"Right, sorry, sorry." He leaned in. "I'm a homosexual. Remember when we first met? Our little Angelo's 'date'?" He turned back towards his microscope. "When I said girlfriends weren't really my area I sincerely meant it."

John frowned and inhaled to say something, but then exhaled. "What about The Wo- er, Irene?" He cocked his head. Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Men are fully able to appreciate women without being romantically interested in them, John."

John quickly raised his eyebrows and retaliated. "Nononono, of course, I just- you two seemed, 'in-sync'," John made some hand motions Sherlock didn't fully understand. He frowned.

"I completely respect her. She's interesting. Very intelligent. It's a platonic fascination. Not so sure about her, though; she was not platonically interested in me. I could tell."

John exhaled. "Of course you could." He calmly looked at Sherlock.

Silence.

Sherlock, concerned, walked back over to John. "John, I- I understand if-"

"Sherlock, I was just curious about her. Other than that, of course I still respect and support you. I value you. A lot. And of course it's the morally right thing to do; there's absolutely nothing wrong with homosexuality. Nothing. It is what it is. It's okay. Oh, and as a doctor I'm telling you to be safe." He let out a little chuckle.

Sherlock Holmes almost got choked up. He approached John.

"Thank you. That, that really means a lot." They stood there just sincerely looking at each other. It was calm. Bliss.

John softly broke the silence. "Oh," he exhaled. "Come here." He opened his arms and gently put them around the taller man. He seemed surprised by it at first, but quickly adjusted. He almost shakily put his arms around John as well.

John quietly asked, "Does anyone else know?"

"Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft. Probably Mycroft's goons as well. Angelo too."

"Hm."

"Mm."

Sherlock pulled away, smiling at John with a 'grateful' kind of look on his face. It made John feel warm and happy inside. John hesitated and looked at the floor then back at Sherlock.

"Er, I'll leave you to your work, then,"

"Alright."

John left the room and sat in his chair.

 _Sherlock Holmes. Gay._  Of course it kind of did make sense to John. A lot, now that he thought about it. But how did Sherlock tell him on the day they met..? He thought hard to himself. Their dinner conversation. Girlfriends? No. Boyfriends? No. But it's okay. He knows it's okay. Totally okay. Thank you. He froze. It was there. He literally, thanked John for being okay with it because he _was_ it. Wow. He froze again. He remembered shortly after that Sherlock thought John was coming onto him; which he  _wasn't._  Not at all. John Watson was not interested in men? He thought even longer. Maybe. Just a bit. No way he'd say it, though. It couldn't be.

_"What you wanted to say before, but never did... Say it now."_

"No. Nope. Not at all not me, not ever." He said aloud and shooed away past therapy sessions. "I. Don't. Love. Sherlock Holmes." He quietly repeated to himself. "Not today, not ever." He stared at the opposing chair in front of him. "We're not... a couple." He then stood up. Rosie was at Molly's for the day till 11; John didn't want her around at this age while Sherlock was doing his 'experiments'. Sherlock begged to differ, though. John chuckled to himself but quickly stopped.

_Not in love with Sherlock Holmes._

Right as he stood up, the man himself practically burst out of the kitchen. John whipped around.

"Got a text from George-"

"-Greg,"

"Okay, there's a new case,"

John frowned. "What of?"

"Old fashioned break in and murder. 2 dead. Money along with some jewelry was stolen. The police say there's no evidence, but they're the police. We're going to go have a look."

John quickly walked towards his jacket. "Will we be back before Rosie's s'posed to get here?" He said as he put an arm through the sleeve.

"Sure. If not I doubt Molly will mind a while longer."

John groaned at this. "Okay, just... Okay."

"What,"

"Nothing. Let's go. Um, where are we going?"

"Oxford Street."

"Wh- really?"

No answer. They scurried down the stairs to the door.

"You alright, boys?" Mrs. Hudson called from the other room.

"Splendid, " responded Sherlock.

"Oh, Sherlock! I'm so glad! Did you tell him that you also-" Sherlock shut the door before she could finish. John turned to him, surprised at this. He did one of his confused-frowny-smiles.

"Wa... wasn't that a tad rude? You didn't let her finish-"

"Nope," Sherlock also cut off John then proceeded to hail a cab. "No time. Taxi!"

"Unbelievable," John muttered as he climbed into the cab after the taller man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support on the first chapter! I love hearing your feedback. Everything is appreciated <3  
> This is where the OC comes in. Originally I was going to use Sebastian Moran, but he's too much of a major character to use in a thing like this. So there's a bootleg version instead lmao  
> Anyways, here's chapter 2!  
> Also season 4 spoilers kind of??? I mean Rosie was already included in the first chapter but idk just putting it out there  
> (PS: it'll probably be an irregular update schedule; I'll upload/write when I have the time.)

It was a quiet ride, which John expected. When they arrived, however, something was different. There was another man at the scene; an extra away from the regular. He was a taller fellow: he had a very firm facial structure with a bit of scruff. He had dark, strawberry-blond hair and a soft expression; although his eyes looked like a rough storm at sea.

Handsome.

John was intimidated. Sherlock, however, was not.

"Geoff, who's this," He asked before walking over to the man.

Lestrade groaned and rolled his eyes. " _Greg,_ and we don't actually entirely know. Says his name's Samuel, he's got an ID?" He finished with a slight shrug. 

"I see. How nice of you to allow him on site," Sherlock said with a hint of sarcasm. He reached the man and held out a gloved hand. "Sherlock Holmes. Consulting detective." The man looked pleased and took it.

"Samuel Morales." He smiled. He had a deep voice. Their two hands lingered for a moment and John cocked his head. He decided to jog over as well.

"Doctor John Watson," He held out his own hand. Instead, he got a pat on the shoulder.  _What the hell..?_ "Th- alright,"

Samuel smirked. "So this is it, huh? The inseparable duo. Doctor Watson and Detective Sherlock Holmes,"

Lestrade showed up beside John. "A fan, I see?"

"Long time," Samuel replied. He glanced at Sherlock and continued, "Love the things you do."

John silently guffawed. What was  _that?_ The way he said it, and  _who_ he said it to... maybe he meant the general 'you'? Not Sherlock alone? It couldn't be. They solved almost every case together after they met; he can't have meant Sherlock alone. They were a team. Duo. Couple. No, no no. John's mind rapidly backspaced. Not 'couple'.

_Wait,_ he thought,  _What if this guy... liked Sherlock...?_

A sure possibility. It made John feel weird, but he knew it had nothing to do with him. Sherlock deserves love. Everyone deserves love; even this intimidating Samuel guy. John decided to shrug it off for now.

_None of my business._

John spoke up. "Thank you. We're quite the spectacle, when you look at it."

Samuel turned to the blogger as if he was required to acknowledge him, not because he wanted to. "Ah, yes, ..."

John and Lestrade exchanged glances.

Greg finally broke the unbearably uncomfortable silence. "Well, these men came here for a reason, better let them get on it," 

Sherlock shook his head. "Actually, Grant, I think you'll manage just fine with this one," he spoke calmly without breaking his eye contact with Samuel. Then he actually turned to the inspector, "I looked around on the way in. Should be of only minor difficulty." He plopped his hand on Lestrade's shoulder, who looked beyond puzzled. "I have faith in you."

He looked just as dumbfounded as John;  _that_ was  _very_ uncalled for. Sherlock was so enthusiastic about the case, but... guess not anymore?

Suddenly, Samuel spoke up. He handed Sherlock a small piece of paper. "Do call, I'd love to get together and hear more about your work." He delicately placed it in the palm of the taller man's hand (which he then put in his coat pocket), and then strolled away.

Lestrade still looked confused. He put his hands on his hips and turned his head to where Samuel had went. "Who just walks on to a crime scene _just_ to see someone-"

"Anyone," John interrupted.

"Yeah, that's uncalled for. He's not even supposed to be  _allowed_ in here, speaking of which.." He turned away to go talk to the near officers. When he was out of the radar, John quickly turned to Sherlock.

"Okay, what the hell,"

"Language," Sherlock frowned.

"What was that? That was so unlike you-"

"I realized this wasn't worth our time."

"But that random man, he was?"

"He was interesting."

_Maybe like Irene,_ John remembered. No matter. It was over now. Knowing Sherlock he'll probably throw away the paper when they get home. They'll never run into that person again.

.

When they got into a cab to take them back to 221B, John still couldn't help pondering what just happened. Did the man have any significance to anything? One can't simply do what he just did without a motive. And John still couldn't fathom the fact why Sherlock Holmes was acting really off, sort of how he acted throughout the time after Rosie was born till they helped his secret sister. Extremely out of character. Unlike him. He stole a glance at Sherlock but only saw the side of his face. It was a nice face; defined features like cheekbones and jawline, gorgeous eyes and lips framed with curls--

_No, stop. This isn't about you,_ He reminded himself.

Wait. What if it  _is_ love? Sherlock Holmes, in love for  _real?_ That'd be extraordinary. Good for him.

"So," John started. "Interesting thing, back there."

"How so,"

John cleared his throat. "Well, I mean it's not every day someone who admires you--"

"It was us,"

"Thank you but it was clearly you, shows up at a bloody  _crime scene_ just to see you. I think he was interested in more than just your work. You should give him a call."

"...That was very exact."

What John said next made himself feel uneasy.

"Yes, the man was clearly interested in you; give him a call!" _T_ _his isn't about you,_  he kept telling himself.  _I'm_ _just supporting my friend. Like a good friend. That's all._

Sherlock slowly took the paper out of his coat and examined it.

"Perhaps I will."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry this chapter took so long. School and life have both been real busy but I'm finally off for winter break and got a chance to write!  
> As promised, here is chapter 3.  
> Comments and kudos are super appreciated, I love hearing from y'all!!

"You boys are back quiet early," Mrs. Hudson said as the two came through the door. Sherlock walked right past her and went up the stairs. John raised his brow at him then turned to the older woman.

"Yeah, ehm, I guess they were capable of solving it on their own?"

"Oh, is that so, dear?"

John scratched his head.  "According to Sherlock, apparently,"

Mrs. Hudson glanced up the stairs then back to John. "Is something on his mind?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Anything important happen while you were out? He seems very focussed,"

John thought back to the man they just met. "I sure hope not.." he mumbled in annoyance.

"Hmm.. just make sure he doesn't get into any trouble." She said with a smile.

"Of course," John smiled back. He looked forward and went up the stairs. He entered the main room; there were absolutely no lights turned on, which John rolled his eyes at, and all you could see was Sherlock's face illuminated by a (John's) laptop (he's grown to get used to it). His sharp features were so nicely defined, John simply stared for a second. Wait. No, situation at hand: He stomped over to the switch and turned the lights on with an exaggerated 'click'. Sherlock visibly flinched and blinked rapidly.

" _Please_ tell me before you do that," he said while still getting accustomed to the light.

"Yeah, ok. Next time." He perked up to look over at what's on the screen of his computer. "Uhm, well what are you doing? On my computer, that is,"

"Researching." He resumed typing.

"Researching what?"

"Samuel."

"Oh, right, sorry- wait _why?_ Isn't that called _'stalking'?_ " He walked closer to Sherlock.

Nothing.

John paced then shook his head. "Listen, just, stop being creepy and just _call_ him, call, you know, the regular way people do it,"

Sherlock raised his eyebrows and looked up at John for a good 10 seconds. "Fine. Phone." He held out his hand.

John looked at the hand and squinted. He then looked at the table and spotted the taller man's phone. He took it and gently, almost slowly, set it in Sherlock's open hand. Their fingers touched. "Is he going to get a customized text-tone as well?"

Sherlock gave him an extremely cold stare, as to which John cracked a smile at. He took the paper out of his coat pocket and entered it into his phone. He typed something then turned it off. "There."

"What, you just texted him? What happened to the call?"

"Oh, please, people like him are probably eating supper right now." He set the phone down.

"Wow. You're being considerate. I'm shocked,"

"Oh, hush, you're the one who wanted me to respond to him. Happy?"

"I want you to do this for yourself, not for my sake-"

Sherlock's phone made an alert noise.

They both stared.

"Well answer it," John motioned towards it.

Sherlock reached over and unlocked it.

 

** I'm messaging the number I was given by a man named Samuel today.- **

** SH **

 

** -That'd be me. Sherlock, I'm happy you responded, allow me to propose lunch tomorrow? **

 

John eyed the message for a bit longer. "He asked you out." 

"Don't be ridiculous, it's strictly business."

"Whatever you say. So?" Deep down John hoped he wouldn't go; but he constantly had to remind himself over and over that again, this is  _not_ about him. It's about happiness for his friend.

"Am I going? If we have no plans tomorrow," Sherlock stated.

John quickly responded. "Not we, you, th-this is about you,"

"..." He started typing.

John looked over at the screen. To his surprise, Sherlock turned away. John frowned.

"Excuse me." He got up and walked over to his room. John heard the sound of the door close.

".... What..." He looked up at his still-on computer screen. To John's surprise Sherlock hadn't found anything on the man, or, he hadn't yet hence John sort of interrupting him.

He sat down, propped up his arms on his knees and rested his head on intertwined fingers. He thought deep and hard.  Privacy? Did he want privacy? Well, if it were John talking to someone he's interested in- someone who's interested in him, he'd want privacy. Fair enough.

Seconds ticked by.

Does this mean they're going out tomorrow? Where will they go? When will Sherlock come back? Will he come back? What if they go back to Samuel's- no, they wouldn't. Not at all. But...?

John stood up and walked right over to Sherlock's door. He knocked once. Hopefully he answers. Was John too impulsive back there? Sherlock is new to serious relationship stuff, did he somehow scare him? He  _is_ somewhat sensitive. No, he's not like that... Is he? He sure hoped not.

"I'm sorry for looking over before... I'm not going to do it again. I just want to know where you'll be going and when you'll be back, I don't want Mrs. Hudson to get worried."

Sherlock answered almost immediately (thank god), although he didn't open the door. "Angelo's, tomorrow at 11:30 am. Should be back before 3."

John released the tension he subconsciously had. They're literally going to be beneath him; if anything happens they're within very close range. "Okay, thank you."  There was a knock on their front door.  "I'll get it. S'probably Rosie." And it was.

"Hello, John!" Molly greeted him with a smile. "How's your evening been?"

"It's been alright. Thank you for watching her," he took Rosie from Molly's arms into his. She looked drowsy; in fact, they both did. "Busy day?"

Molly shook her head and chuckled. "She had me walking all around London almost the entire time, she's got a lot of energy."

John smiled in return. "Aah. Thank you so much again for watching her, are you sure you don't want any-"

Molly held up her hands. "No, John, I told you, you don't need to give me anything. It's alright, I enjoy her company, she's very good."

"Oh, thank you so much. I swear I'll make it up to you somehow, though. She's a handful for me and Sherlock right now-"

"Oh, how is he?" Molly perked up.

John raised an eyebrow. Molly initially _did_ have a crush on Sherlock, but over the years and that whole 'say I love you or you'll die but I can't tell you that' thing (that turned out to not even be true) was really the final blow. They're still friends; though Molly still cares for him a considerable lot.

"Uhm, Sherlock? Alright, I think. Should be. We met this person today and they've been texting."

"Oh, I see... are they like, you know, 'hitting it off'?" Molly looked passed John.

Where did this suddenly come from? "Maybe?" John squinted. "Apparently he's meeting him tomorrow."

Molly suddenly looked a bit surprised. " _'Him'?_ Oh, wow, uh, I didn't... good for him." She nodded.

"Yeah, hopefully..." Floorboards creaked. John looked to his right and saw Sherlock slowly walking towards them; he seemed to have changed into his pajamas. "Oh, looked who decided to show up."

Sherlock joined him in the doorway. He nodded. "Molly."

She awkwardly smiled and gave a small wave. "Hi," she nodded back.

"John, I can take her for you now, if you want," Sherlock held his arms out.

He was a bit surprised at first. "Oh, yeah of course, thanks," he handed her off. Normally he wouldn't ask, but who knows, maybe he's feeling sentimental tonight?

Molly smiled. "I'll leave you two, then. Have a good night, I'll come by at 9." she gave another small wave and headed down the stairs.

The two men said their scattered 'good-byes' and shut the door. John turned to Sherlock and touched his arm. "I think we should put her to bed."

"I agree." Sherlock responded.

It didn't take them long. Before they knew it, they were back in the living room in their respectable chairs. Sherlock was doing his usual 'hands together under chin and looking straight ahead' thing and John was sitting comfortably.

The shorter man looked up. "So, how's it going,"

Sherlock moved out of his position and frowned. "Pardon?"

"You and him,"

"... Fine. Why?"

"I'm- I'm just curious, it's not every day Sherlock Holmes makes an acquaintance." John shifted a little bit.

"I see." He stood up. "Well, I'm making tea. You want any?"

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself." He started walking towards the kitchen. He almost passed John's chair when suddenly something grabbed his housecoat.

"Actually, yeah, I do, please."

They made eye contact. "Alright." He continued to the kitchen.

John sat serenely for a moment but then remembered the things he was doing, experiments and all, in the morning. He shot up and jogged over a few feet behind the other man.

"Sherlock, do not let it touch anything you're doing on the table there," he said almost worriedly.

Sherlock set the kettle down and turned to face him. "John Watson, who do you think I am?"

John looked down at the kettle and noticed the enormous flame Sherlock had set it to. He raised his eyebrows, reached over and turned it down a (safe) notch. He smiled and looked up at the taller man.

"Someone who needs me." He answered.

Sherlock looked down at the stove and let the corner of his mouth curl up. "Thank you."

Sherlock finished the tea without any further concerns and they returned to the living room without any complications. John finished his cup first and slowly stood up.

"I think I'm going to bed, now."

"Alright."

"Thank you for the tea,"

"You're wel-"

"Oh, and no need to thank me for saving the building from being burned down. Just doing my duty."

"John I swear to go-"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it really was good, though."

"...Thank you."

"Nite Sherlock."

"Good night, John."


End file.
